What if we squirt, dance, eat, whip away a society cramped in shame and norms? What if the anger of all fighters, who live in existing and past patriarchal structures, who had to endure them, who suffered from them or have come to death by them, what if that anger became an overwhelming, transforming energy turning us into freed, unadjusted and loud people, ready for a positive change? Then we fight for uncompromised being. For love freed from shame. For life as it could be. Alive origiastically.

GAY+WATCH BERLIN was born out of the need for a piece that unites that comes with dirty lyrics to happy tunes, to bring forth a feeling of community and cohesion in a time where isolation, fear, and uncertainty too often overrules our everyday. GAY*WATCH Berlin is here for us all.

Evelyn has her very own story to tell. That, as such, is nothing new, but most of her subordinate clauses when talking reveal more about herself and her life than an average diary. This film is a snippet of Evelyn’s life. It came into being because the life paths of two women crossed at a very peculiar place and brought them close together probably not least because of their unifying extraneousness.

Thanks to sausages, a group of 6 Queers discover their sexuality across all concepts of gender and identity in a suburban German allotment.

A Tomboy  who defies sexism in the Sexdoll brothel and lives out her sexual emancipation as a woman. Two alleged contract killers who transform themselves into alien-like gods in the Berlin hotel room and create the world that does not exist outside.

Hanna’s piece “Room No 504” offers the possibility of humanity lived outside of rooms equipped with golden couches, Jacuzzis and showers to wash potential life away. We are invited to celebrate female sensuality truthfully given and enjoyed by oneself and for the sake of itself. The piece is offering hope and pleasure in an otherwise dark episode of mankind – to be transformed into “womankind” .

In the midst of others, but isolated, because they are deeply absorbed in their bluish shining mobile phone displays, staring at TVs or sitting at gaming machines. "Bodiless communication preferred", it says in the video, which critically asks about the change of communication through the loss of personal interactions. The voice of the artist accompanies the viewer through anonymous everyday scenes and yet so familiar moments of public life–continuous communication and interaction merge with moments of loneliness into a poetic-dreamlike odyssey: “remind yourself, this is not real–try to let go.”

Desire. Trapped in a routine. Searching for this one feeling. To be free once. As humans, we have created sites supposedly ending this search. The search becomes an addiction. Can become addiction. Addicted to money, to become someone else. To be someone else. Feelings as if you had won the jackpot. Adrenalin. Flying. A life with shiny wings, which carry us anywhere. Back to us. Back to the real sense of being. Hanna sends out an invitation that allows us to be anything. Because we already carry all of it with us.

Desolation wants to punch you in the face. But only hits emptiness. A void of hopelessness. We encounter images portraying the failed concept city. We hear her voice. A woman, that has been broken.Though where everything gaps open, a flash of light. An animal holding up a mirror to the world in its vulnerability. The world viewed with a different pair of eyes. She acquired new territory. Where the souls are empty, she hunts. Nourished from pain she becomes stronger. A hunger for life, where humanity has abolished itself. A creating power: She, the coyote.

Hanna Schaichs use of camera evokes changing empathy. I wonder whether I should feel jealousy or pity for these animals. Their life looks so idyllic. They eat, sleep, drink. But as soon as the camera moves further away and enables me to see another frame, I realize their imprisonment and dependency. So is freedom just a question of angle?

Hanna Schaich’s »taking over« breaks with the childlike desire for an eternal summer day – the constant waiting for the ringing of the ice cream man. In the cool darkness of a garage somewhere in New York City, we meet him again. Strung between rundown, pastel yellow and green walls they are – the ice cream trucks in shiny turquoise and magenta. These images remind us of the motifs of American Pop Art: gaudy detailed views of everyday objects. But not as an idealized vision.

The modern world is becoming smaller, developing into a world of global networks. In it we are always on the move, seeking to expand, not only by stretching out our arms, but by grabbing things: We are constantly seeing what we could desire. We are taking the fast lane and not much can catch up with us. But sometimes the past pulls us back and we look at the rear lights of our own existence.

In a squalid, industrial setting, and a sunny mood, we first see an empty car. In addition, we are faced with the unpleasant noise of switched on wipers on dry glass surface. The viewer is redeemed after one, challenging the patience of the first setting, with an absurd Second from squeaking.

In my first video work produced in 2009, I take on different personalities. While the left side of the screen shows a Polaroid still developing, the right side is dedicated to performance and movement.